OMG. You Told Me Such Poignant Things…
So Many Of You Did The Assignment
So last week's newsletter ended with this, and I was blown away by the number of you who wrote back and actually did the assignment. I was—God, I can't think of a word that doesn't sound so cheesy that it loses all impact—but I was so humbled, hashtag-blessed, that you trusted me with your words. I said I wouldn't share anyone's name or email address, and obviously, I won't. I've deleted every email, and I only cut and pasted the words—I have no idea who sent what.
Anyway, if you’ve been with this newsletter since the beginning (which has only been a few months, I know—don’t worry, I’m not getting nostalgic already), you may remember that I said I wanted to figure out what this was as I was writing it. And reading your replies last week unlocked the next level of what this is. Or what it can be. Or maybe just what it was last week.
When I lamented that I couldn’t meet my deadline the way I wanted to, you all gave me grace. Those of you who didn’t “do the assignment” wrote me encouragement. And I didn’t know that I needed that encouragement until I read it.
I Couldn’t Locate My Feelings
I felt that familiar order of events when something gets into my soul.
First: Deny. “Oh, they’re really taking my newsletter too seriously. I was just trying to find a fun, meta way to explain that I almost missed this deadline.”
Then: Pause. Ohhhhh.
They picked up on something underneath the little quippy writing. I was asking to be seen and heard and given grace. I thought of it when I wrote it as “I hope they give me a pass and don’t unsubscribe.” But no, y’all were right. It was deeper. I was struggling at the moment, and you picked up on it before I did.
You know how some people get into bed, but instead of closing their eyes, they start scrolling through Instagram? Or maybe it’s time to go to TikTok and search
Blake Lively lawsuit
or
Luigi Mangione update
Opening ourselves up to the stillness of our head on a pillow and our body at rest can be scary. What will our mind tell us now that it has the floor completely?
What-the-entire-are-you-fucking-kidding-me-fuck?
I’m like that with writing. Sometimes, I can’t handle the stillness when I sit down to write because I don’t want to honor what’s on my mind. The day I wrote that newsletter, I was avoiding my feelings. I am doing some good and deep trauma work in therapy. Some days, I need to take it easy.
AND?
I am really sad about America. I didn’t want to write about it. Not because I don’t want to get “political” here, but because it wasn’t word-ready. It was just a feeling. A feeling that was rendering me tired. The only words I have are, what-the-entire-are-you-fucking-kidding-me-fuck-is-going-on?
I’m out of words.
I read your words.
I want to share all of you with each other.
We Are All So Human
Dear Jen,
Seeing the question “How have you been?” written on an email, nearly makes me choke up. It felt like a friend genuinely concerned and wanting to know.
My reaction felt telling about how I have been: On the struggle bus. Thank you for asking, truly.
Dear Jen,
I’ve never told anyone this: There are many days I wish I were no longer a part of this world, but would never take my own life. All I feel day-to-day is STUCK and TRAPPED! (sorry for the caps but the rage is real) Please don’t tell anyone, but you can print this without my name.
Dear Jen,
I’m okay, except I want to be an activist saving people worth saving. In the meantime I’m simply laying here on a couch (not even mine) thinking how on earth I can do that without having to move right now. I’m mostly comfy at the moment except for the world’s most adorable cat taking up too much space on this thing - my shared cat with my ex-husband. Anyway, I’m restless to make change and considering many options how to do that.
Dear Jen,
Every day, I wish I were making even a few dollars from my own business—but instead I’m happily lost in a whirlwind of un-solutioned final products.
Dear Jen,
What I wish I was doing every day is living in an alternate timeline where everything isn’t so terrible and I have a job that doesn’t wreck my psyche on top of it. What I am doing every day is living on approved mental health leave (thank god for that privilege!) while I play around with available prescriptions for my newly diagnosed ADHD. This includes regular exercise (hooray!), rest (difficult), reading (easier than it used to be!), and studying for a complete career pivot, which may or may not be financially tenable in this crumbling capitalist hellscape. It feels good to yell into the void!
Dear Jen,
I am feeling overwhelmed bc so many people want more from me than I have to give. I wish for freedom (but not too much! :))
Dear Jen,
I’ve been under my weighted blanket a lot in the last week and I’m getting over the flu.
What I wish I was doing every day is design work that matters to me and makes me excited, but what I’m doing is cranking out software UI designs and doing project management for tech people with no communication skills in a chaotic toxic ageist company run by Fintech bros striving to make rich people richer. Even tho the pay is decent I have to make a plan to get out, do something else, and simplify my life.
Dear Jen,
What I wish I was doing every day is going for walks at the beach or in a cool wooded area, working out at the gym, dancing in a class that is fun, but easy on my over 55 knees and taking various arts and crafts classes. But what I’m doing every day is watching shows on various streaming services and reading emails. How am I? I’m surviving. I’m embracing my dark sense of humor and laughing as much as possible but mourning the loss of my mom and gripped by anxiety. Thank you for asking.
Dear Jen,
My secret wish is that I wished I could move out on my own. My marriage has been unhealthy for years and it is just wearing on me at this point, where all I do everyday is work (remote) and then numb out the rest of the night until going to bed.
I know I should wish for something that helps the world, but I’d be lying if I said this secret wish isn’t my FIRST want.
Dear Jen,
That you even care if we care or if anyone cares means a lot. A lot to me. Because I am in shock these days. I honestly can’t believe how unbelievably stupid people can be to supposedly create this situation.
Wow.
Look at that.
Something GOOD came from the internet today.